Sunday, November 22, 2009

Jenz Next-in-a-Series NaNo Post

﻿ I dropped my bag instead, which had the same effect. “Argh! Goddammit!!” Loki looked up from the screen and glared at me. “You did that on purpose!!”

“Hey,” I said, ineffectively. “You’re on my computer.”

“No I’m not. I’m in your chair.” He spun around once, just for effect. Then, stopping, “Why do I feel like we this conversation have before had?”

“What?”

“Forget it. Annie Sipkins. I’m Loki of Asgard.”

“We’ve met,” I said. “And I distinctly remember not liking you.”

“No, you’re wrong. You thought I was great. We danced, we drank, we fucked like bunnies...”

“Well, I’ve re-ordered all reality since then,” I told him. “And I remember very distinctly not liking you.”

“Argh! Goddammit!!” Loki waved his arms at me. “Don’t say that!”

“Don’t say what? I remember not liking you?”

“No, that you can say. Just don’t say that other thing.”

“That thing about re-ordering all–”

“Sssst!” Loki put his finger to his lips. “That’s what I’m saying!”

“Fine,” I said, exasperated. “Get out of my office chair. I need to sit down.”

Loki hopped to the floor. He was about four, maybe four and half feet high, and his feet er, hooves, didn’t quite reach the ground from my chair. He walked–waddled–past me to the door, and for one glorious second I thought he was leaving. Then he came back with the chair that belonged to Cheryl–well, it belonged to the City of Dallas, but Cheryl sat in it most of the time. I could tell it was Cheryl’s by the traces of long blonde hair draped over the back. “There,” he announced, plunking into the chair. With a push of his tail he spun himself around again.

“Sorry,” Loki said. When I looked up, “Oh, relax. No kidnapping’s going to happen. But I’m positive I’m going to have to drag you back out of your boring, mundane little life–”

“Actually, I kind of like my life,” I said.

“–and involve you in some heroic quest or other,” Loki finished, as though I hadn’t spoken. “Because in case you hadn’t noticed, things are getting a little weird down Dallas way.”

“Yes, I had noticed,” I retorted. “And I’m positive that it’s all your fault.”

“No, actually it’s yours.” This startled me and at the same time didn’t surprise me at all. “You’re the one who burned the Tree of Life.”

“Yeah, well, so what?” I shrugged. “I mean, it’s all still here, isn’t it? The world and all that stuff you like? Pop-tarts? Librarians? Tetris?”

“Sure,” Loki conceded, which surprised me. It wasn’t like Loki to be so darned agreeable. “But there’s always consequences. Any time you do something, you’re gonna create side effects, like ripples in reality.”

“Like that butterfly flapping his wings off the coast of China–” I began.

“And starting World War Three off Papua New Guinea. Exactly. And when you do something like re-ord–” He stopped, clapped his hand over his mouth, and then resumed, “Do that thing you did, well, things can really get weird. Whole planets can disappear. Epochs can be erased. To say nothing of pissing off giants.”

“I’ve pissed off a giant?” I glanced down at the animals, which were still looking up at me with great interest. “Which one?”

“Not any of those,” said Loki. “Skadi.”

“Scotty?” I almost started laughing. “Beam me up?”

Loki rubbed his forehead. “Look,” he said. “I know you’re trying to be funny, but that joke gets really old after the first ten thousand or so years.”

“A thousand pardons,” I said, giggling. “Or is it more like, ‘Scotty! I need more power!’”

“I thought you didn’t watch Star Trek.”

“New reality, new rules. ‘Scotty! You get his tricorder, I’ll get his wallet!’”

“Cut that out,” Loki said. “Seriously.”

“Or is it more like, ‘Scotty! How much longer to repair this goddamned engine?”

A ripple went through City Hall. I felt my office start to wobble under my feet, and the windows shook just a little.